Fighting Spirit
by Alexandra3
Summary: KOTOR.LSF. When a warrior killed his opponent, he would strip him of his armor and, in most cases, wear it. The idea was that by taking his armor, you were taking his fighting spirit.


Carth came to the door leading into the hold with the workbench and paused. Lethe Kast sat cross-legged on top of the workbench, working intently on a piece of black armor. Tools lay scattered all around her, including a few that had been pushed to the floor so that she had room to sit. She distractedly pushed some wayward strands of hair behind her ears and bit her lip as she examined the armor.

The Republic pilot couldn't help but smile at her as she stuck a tool in her mouth and picked up another to make another adjustment to the chest plate. Lethe had crashed into his life and wormed her way into gaining his trust. She had surprised him in so many ways, by being completely capable of adapting and surviving any situation that was thrown at her. This scout turned Jedi had kept him on his toes for more reasons than one.

Lethe glanced up and grinned. She took the tool out of her mouth and motioned him over. "I'm glad you're here! I need you to try this on."

Carth eyed the armor in her hands with confusion. "What, that armor?"

Lethe laughed and hopped off of the worktable. "Don't look so surprised. I've been in here the whole time modifying this armor so that it would fit you. I reinforced it and added a mesh underlay, so it should work much better than it did originally. Now come on, I want to see if it fits."

Carth shrugged out of his jacket and took the armor from her hands and inspected it briefly. She had done a good job with it, but he couldn't help but feel a bit apprehensive considering the previous owner. "Didn't this used to be Darth Bandon's armor?"

Lethe leaned back against the wall, nodding as he fit the armor around his torso. "It used to. But I figured you would have more use for it now. How does it feel?"

Carth twisted around a bit, stretching to see how much give it had. "It pinches under my left arm a bit."

Lethe frowned and grabbed a tool from the bench. "Here, rest your elbow on my shoulder while I adjust it."

He did as she asked, suddenly very aware of the close quarters that they were in. The fact was they had grown much closer over the last couple of weeks. . .frighteningly so. He tried not to think about the fact that she was so near to him and talk about something else. "So why Darth Bandon?"

Lethe looked up at him briefly before returning her gaze to the armor. She was trying to loosen it without making it faulty. She suspected that the mesh underlay was causing problems. "Just seemed like the best option. You've got broader shoulders than him and a good deal more muscle, but his armor was good enough to salvage. That's the problem with so many of the Jedi–they rely on the Force so much that they let it do all the work for them. Makes them sloppy sometimes, brings on physical weakness."

Carth raised an eyebrow, amused at her critique of Jedi. "That doesn't answer the question exactly. Okay, so the armor is good, but why go through this much trouble to make it fit me? Surely it would fit Jolee better. Unless it's got some sort of Dark taint to it and you're just not telling me."

Lethe chuckled. "Hardly. Though it did kind of reek of the Dark Side when I took it from Bandon, the taint has faded and it's back to being just simple armor. Jolee would rather go have a tea party with Exar Kun than wear any armor, let alone that of a former Sith. Besides, I'd prefer you have it. Makes me feel better knowing you're wearing the best we have. After all, the two of you together would certainly be a fearsome match."

Carth frowned. "What do you mean the two of us together?"

Lethe glanced up at him, blushing slightly. "Oh, it's nothing. Just an old Deralian legend. Silly really."

Carth shook his head. He used the fingers on the hand draped over her shoulder to gently brush her neck, bringing her eyes back to him. "No, tell me. I want to know."

Lethe let her eyes lock with his, judging his sincerity before proceeding. "Back on Deralia, there are tales of ancient wars that would be fought. When a warrior killed his opponent, he would strip him of his armor and, in most cases, wear it. The idea was that by taking his armor, you were taking his fighting spirit. By using his armor, you were adding his strengths and his will to your own. It was thought to make you more powerful, by using the spirits of your slain enemies. This really doesn't happen anymore on Deralia, but sometimes soldiers from my home world try to live out the old legends. I know of few that fought in the Mandalorian Wars that came away with some nice armor.

"Regardless of the blasting I do on Bandon, the fact is you don't become the apprentice to a Sith Lord because of connections. He was an adept warrior, even if we did kill him rather quickly. Despite his twisted frame of mind, he deserved honor because he was a worthy opponent. I like to think I am honoring those I killed by wearing their armor and acknowledging their strength in battle, whatever it may be." She motioned to Davik's rather lurid purple armor that she had grown rather fond of. "Davik may not have been what one would call a warrior, but he was smart and he knew how to work a situation." She shrugged again, the light blush returning. "Like I said, just a silly tale. I guess it meant more to me than I had originally thought."

Carth found the tale endearing. "I don't think that's silly at all. Makes me wish Telos had legends like that."

Lethe laughed softly and let his arm drop back down. "I think that should fit better now. How does it feel?"

He stretched again, noticing that the pinching feeling was gone now. "It's just fine. Now let's hope that Bandon's affinity for getting killed didn't translate over as well."

Lethe laughed and tossed the tool she had been using back on the bench. She took a step forward and absentmindedly rubbed at a scratch on the chest plate. "It won't. . .not if I have anything to say about it."

They grew silent and Carth watched her focus on the chest plate, further amazed at the woman before him. Just when he thought he knew so much about her, there was always something more to discover. Lethe finally raised her eyes to his and he paused, truly processing how close they were standing.

He really couldn't stop himself. He had been aching to do something about his feelings for weeks and though he told himself it wasn't a good idea, his restraint collapsed. His hands rested lightly on her hips and he bent his head. Lethe's eyes fluttered closed as she titled her head as well, leaning into him.

Their lips had hardly brushed when a crash sounded from down the hall. The two jumped apart as if they had been caught and scolded. Canderous cursing violently and T3 beeping indignantly filtered down the hall, showing that no one was nearby or had witnessed their near kiss.

Lethe's face was on fire as she dropped her eyes. She could hardly believe what she had almost done! What was more, she could hardly believe the regret racing through her. She mumbled a not entirely coherent excuse and rushed from the hold.

Carth stood still, watching the door that Lethe had run out of. He couldn't believe that a badly timed crash had ruined the moment. He felt like gutting Canderous, but he couldn't do that–not without explaining why he wanted to gut the Mandalorian. And that certainly wasn't something he was going to get into.

He sighed in frustration and carefully took off the armor, examining it more carefully. He was more than touched that she had put so much effort into something meant for him. He sighed again and turned to head towards the cockpit, determined to not be fazed by what had just. . .not. . .happened. He would find Lethe later. And then maybe he would see about that lost kiss.

-I-I-I-

Well, I figured it was about time I made my appearance in the Star Wars area of the fanfiction universe. I consider it odd that one of the first stories that I ever wrote was Star Wars, yet it isn't until seven years later that I decide to officially join the genre. Go figure. Regardless, I just love the Kotor games so much, I couldn't stay away!

For any that are curious, the idea of the reason for taking the armor is from Ancient Greece. If you read the Iliad you see the warriors taking the armor off of their dead enemies and it was because they were taking their "fighting spirit" as it were. At least, that's what I think my professor was saying that day in class... Also, Lethe is actually one of the rivers that runs through Hades that causes forgetfulness. I thought the irony was well deserved in this instance. (You can't tell I'm a Classical Studies minor can you?)

Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this! I have another story finished that I will post in a few days. And I've got ideas for more! So please leave me a review letting me know what you like, what you don't, so on and so forth! Thanks for reading!

--Alexandra


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